


Tornado Brain

by argallel



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Autism, Autistic Leo Fitz, Hurt Leo Fitz, Meltdown, Self-Harm, Weighted Blanket, red instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 20:11:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argallel/pseuds/argallel
Summary: Fitz is having an autistic meltdown.Luckily, his friends are there to help him get through it.





	Tornado Brain

**Author's Note:**

> I headcannon Fitz as autistic. I mean, even people who don't know what Autism is tend to write him with Autistic traits.
> 
> I based this loosely on my own experience with what a meltdown is like. If you have any questions, please ask!
> 
> Enjoy!

There was too much energy thrumming beneath his skin.

Fitz flapped his hand by his thigh, trying to be discreet. He had too much energy, too much energy, and it threatened to shatter his entire being into a million pieces if he didn’t get rid of it. And the only way he knew how to get rid of it was by moving.

He could feel his breath hitching in his chest, and he tried to slow it down.

“Fitz?” Simmons laid a steady hand on his shoulder. Her face was a mask of concern and worry. “Everything alright?”

He was alright; he was fine. Fitz managed to nod his head, shaking the entire world. His heart rate picked up and he felt nauseas. He needed to move- now. “Excuse me,” he mumbled as he all but sprinted out the room.

In the hallway, Fitz exhaled loudly. He needed to recentre. He needed to chill out, stop this absolute vibrating in his inner soul. Both hands flew up near his mid chest as he flapped furiously. It hurt his wrists, and he relished the feeling. He paced in a tight circle.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he sighed to himself. “Just breathe, you’re okay. Just breathe.” Fitz forced himself to hold his breath, trying to stop hyperventilating.

“Leo.”

Fitz whirled around as Simmons stepped out into the hallway behind him. She looked even more worried than before.

“Are you doing okay?” Simmons could clearly see he wasn’t doing well, but she felt he needed to do this on his own terms.

“I can’t-” he gasped. His face was pale, and he felt out of control. Trembling hands gripped sweaty locks as he pulled on his hair. “I can’t, I can’t-”

“Okay, okay,” Simmons soothed. “I can see you’re struggling. Where do you want to go?”

Fitz took off running down the hall. He needed to move, needed to get out of here-

Predictably, Fitz ran straight into what had been dubbed ‘The Spaceship’. It was an old, unused office that he and the team had turned into a sort of sensory haven for the engineer. It was big enough that it held a blanket fort in one corner, a hammock swing over a ball pit in another, and many other soft and interesting toys and objects, all with the purpose of making Fitz’ life more comfortable. 

As soon as the engineer made it into the room, he went straight for the fort in the corner, grabbing various pillows and blankets as he went. Simmons went over to a shelf and took out a small plastic container. She took it over to the fort.

“Fitz?” She asked quietly, looking into the fort as best she could. “Do want your dino chewy? Or your spaceship chewy?” 

There was no answer, just the sound of rustling from inside the fort. Suddenly, Fitz flew halfway out the door flap, hands still tangled and pulling on his sweaty curls. 

“Where is it?” he all but yelped. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?” Simmons tried to keep her tone calm. Fitz was already in meltdown mode, and it seemed to be heading towards self-injurious behaviour. “What do you need?”

He pulled one hand out of his hair, yanking as he did, and starting flapping viciously. “My… my… blanket!” he finally got out.

“Your weighted one?” Simmons glanced around the room. She couldn’t see the dark blue blanket that was a favourite of Fitz’. “You had it at movie night last night. Did you leave it in the common area?”

Fitz took off running out the room and down the hallway. Simmons followed after him, just in time to see him disappear into the common room. He was pulling so hard on his curls, it looked like they might come right out of his scalp.

Simmons could hear Mack’s soothing voice as she rounded the corner to the common room. 

“How can I help, Turbo?”

There was a clatter, and Simmons stepped quickly into the room.

Fitz was standing near a now-swept-off counter, breathing heavily. His eyes darted around the room. One hand pulled viciously at his hair, while the other flapped hurriedly near his face.

Mack had his hands up in a placating gesture. “I need you tell me what you need, Turbo. I can only help you if you communicate what you need.” 

Fitz tried to speak, he really did, but all that came out were errant constantans and parts of words. He got so frustrated, so angry at the situation, himself, and the emotions that welled up inside of him, trapped, that he shrieked loudly. With the hand that had previously been flapping near his face, he began to hit his temple.

“Woah, Fitz, calm down!” Mack stepped towards the angry engineer. “You need to communicate to us what you need.”

Fitz was so far into his meltdown that communication was impossible. He began to hit harder, rocking back and forth on his feet. He brought his other arm down to his mouth and began to bite on it.

Simmons looked over towards Mack. “Mack,” she said quietly. 

He looked over at her, then back at Fitz. “Hey, man, I’m going to come over there, okay?” Mack took a step towards Fitz. “Alright, I’m just coming over there and I’m going to help you calm down, alright?” Smoothly, Mack stepped up to Fitz and grabbed the hand that was hitting his temple, and gently held it back. 

Fitz squirmed, pulling away from Mack. He shrieked again and began to bite his arm even harder.

“Okay, you’re good,” Mack encouraged. He grabbed the arm Fitz was biting and gently pried it away from his mouth. It came away wet with blood and saliva.

Simmons stepped closer to the pair, ready to render medical assistance if needed. Fitz hollered and squirmed, trying his hardest to get out of Mack’s restraint as the mechanic wrapped his arms around Fitz from behind.

Mack had done this before for Fitz, but not for many months. Meltdowns were not totally avoidable. But they came less frequently when Fitz took care of himself and his needs. Such violent self-injurious behaviour was very rare. 

“Just hold on, Turbo,” Mack said gently. “We’ll get through this together.”

“Deep breaths, Leo,” Simmons reminded him. She kept her distance from the pair, trying not to overwhelm Fitz more than he already was. 

Mack glanced behind him as Fitz continued to struggle. “Hey, is that what he came in here looking for?” He jerked his head towards a dark piece of material sticking out from under the coffee table. “His blanket?”

Simmons all but ran over the table and hauled the blanket out from under it. “Fitz,” she said as she approached the pair. “Fitz, I have your blanket. Mack and I are going to get you in a more comfortable position so you can have it, okay?”

Fitz didn’t answer. He just threw his head back against Mack’s chest and shrieked once again. 

Simmons was nearly in tears. She hadn’t seen a meltdown this bad since Ward and the whole Hydra situation. “It’s alright, it’s okay,” she said softly, partly for her own sake. 

“Okay, Turbo.” Mack took a step backwards towards the couch. “We’re gonna take a seat.” Fitz fought back, hard, unable to control himself. Mack glanced behind him to confirm the couch was there, then dropped down onto it. Fitz tried to twist away from him.

Simmons quickly stepped over and draped the blanket over the pair. “There you go, Fitz,” she said with a forced smile. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

There was a noticeable slowing in Fitz’ attempts to move, to try and free himself from Mack. Eventually, he fell completely still.

Mack let his restraint hold loosen as Fitz calmed down. “There we go,” he said softly. “All’s good, Turbo.” 

Fitz didn’t answer, just focused on breathing slowly and deeply. The calm after a meltdown could be fragile. He leaned back into Mack.

Simmons sat down beside the pair. “Hey, Fitz,” she said gently. “Can I see your arm? I want to make sure you didn’t hurt it too badly.” She waited for a moment, watching him. His eyes met hers briefly, and she took this as permission. “Okay, I’m just going to take your arm out from under the blanket.”

With a bit of maneuvering from all three parties, Simmons managed to get a good look at Fitz’ arm. It was bruised and bleeding slightly, but not too badly injured. She decided to leave it; trying to clean and wrap it was likely to set Fitz off again.

Fitz gave Mack a gentle shove with his shoulder.

“Turbo?” Mack looked down at the younger man.

Fitz signed thank you jerkily, then turned to Simmons and did the same. He looked washed out; curls damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead, marks on his temple from where he had hit himself. He also looked very tired.

Simmons leaned back against the couch. It was incredibly comfortable being next to Mack and Fitz, and she had stayed up late in the lab last night…

-

Later, when Skye woke them up by quaking the couch, Fitz sill wasn’t talking. He was communicating very effectively, though, as evidenced by the middle finger that he gave Skye.


End file.
